


Things Not Left In Fiction

by MitsubachiAria



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Memory Alteration, Pre-New Dangan Ronpa V3, Sort Of, We live in a society, i think, mentions of mindwiping?, psychological horror for fun and profit, suicide TW, uhh im not sure what the right tag for this is, welcome to the mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitsubachiAria/pseuds/MitsubachiAria
Summary: Tsumugi finds out she has to go in for another Season.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shirogane Tsumugi (implied)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Things Not Left In Fiction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slowpoke_Curry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slowpoke_Curry/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my bestest friend in the whole entire world! This might be a bit... dark for a birthday present, but my best friend loves Tsumugi and horror so I'm hoping this is right up their alley. Have a wonderful day! <3

The game was over- Tsumugi had won, playing the part of the mole turned to Hope’s side by the love and support of protagonist Rantaro. Of course, that was only an act- it was in her script that if found out before the true villain was supposed to be revealed, she’d say she was only doing it because the real villain had been the only one to be kind to her, or something like that. Honestly, she barely even remembered what all she’d said. The reformatting of that script was already fading fast from her mind. 

Now she was back to being plain old Tsumugi, production assistant of Team Danganronpa. Not even the name she’d gone by during the games remained. All those grandiose talks of Hope had been brushed aside. Hope was just a fairytale- a delusion people told themselves to pretend as if there was something greater waiting for them other than the deluge of useless media indulging in the theatrics of Despair. 

She was just doing what she had to in order to survive by helping them. The strong survived, and the biggest show out there was the strongest of them all. She was fortunate to be where she was instead of back out on the streets. She had food and shelter here, that was all she needed. 

And yet, she was sad that her role was only that. Rantaro had been so kind to her when no one else had been. Even aside from her scripted memories, she truly did feel for a while that by his side was the warmest place in the world. Those feelings were scripted too, of course- romantic subplots were always what got the ratings up. 

He was probably somewhere too, waking up to the realization that freedom was never going to be his prize, but instead, just the chance to play again. She could look for him if she wanted to, but she knew it would be a horrible idea. The girl in his memories was nothing like the real her, after all. It was better if he was left with fond memories and didn’t receive the knowledge his partner in the fight for Hope was nothing but a cynical stagehand. 

She sat up and took a deep breath. So this was it now, back to orchestrating this cruel, never-ending waltz with Despair until the day she died or was Terminated. The Hope she dreamed of had been so very sweet, but it was only fiction. 

One of the producers noticed her and shot a glance in her direction. “You're still hanging around, Shirogane? Get back to the writer’s room, you have a script to pick up.”

“H-huh?” She blinked the drowsy remnants of a deep sleep from her eyes. She must have understood something wrong. “Oh, I’m not on the script writing team-”

“Of course you’re not, you need to get your script for this season’s role!” The producer glared daggers at her, beginning to walk past. “Or did no one tell you you’re on the cast again?” 

Tsumugi’s breath quickened as she hastily walked after the producer. “That wasn’t the deal!” she exclaimed. “You said you only needed me for one game!”

“Plans change,” the producer said with a flippant shrug. “You didn’t end up as the Mastermind, after all- you were exposed too early. We had too many leftover scripts, so we’re going to recycle them for your next role. We can’t afford to let them go to waste.”

Afford, they said, as if they didn’t have all the money in the world for their twisted game. 

“You’ll be excellent,” she was told. “The Ultimate Cosplayer this time. You and that Amami kid will be the only ones with any memories of the past, but he won’t remember it was you.”

“Y-you’re putting Rantaro in again too?!” She was practically shaking at this point, whether with rage or fear, she wasn’t sure. “But why? Only one victor returns, that’s the dea-”

“Oh, stop with these talks of ‘deals’, would you?” Her producer cut her off with a stern glare. “The contract states that you must follow our orders, and should they change, those become your new orders. Would you rather your contract be  _ Terminated _ ?”

The producer motioned to a group of Terminated workers passing them. Their eyes were lifeless, and headphones were practically bolted to their ears. They walked to and from their assignments, only resting when their tasks for the day were complete. Their memories and personalities had been destroyed when they’d failed their terms of employment, or “perished” in the game. Now they only existed to keep the show running until their empty bodies finally crumbled. 

One of the Terminated passing her had been one of her so-called classmates in the last season. She’d been so kind- the Ultimate Greenhouse Technician, found dead in Chapter Two after being forced to eat poisonous berries. Everyone had thought at first she’d killed herself, until it came out that the Ultimate Pyrotechnician had threatened to blow up the school if she didn’t. His execution had been one the producers were very much hoping to be able to use, and Tsumugi didn’t doubt that they made his motivation seeking money to cure his ill sister in order to make a cash prize a motive to push him to it. 

Even still, she couldn’t for the life of her recall either of their names. How pathetic was that? 

Her producer clearly took her silence as confirmation, and prattled on. “Come on, it’ll be perfect! The viewers will eat it up- they’ll wonder if you’re really the same girl from the last season, or if you just look similar! The fan forums will go wild when you’re revealed as the big baddie!”

“Big… baddie?” she repeated.

“Of course! Just imagine the tragedy- the brave heroine overcoming Despair last season succumbing to it and becoming a puppet of the very force she once wished to destroy! We can even film a minisode for the box set of your falling into Despair at the cruelties of the very world you wished to rejoin.”

The idea made her skin crawl. The world she wished to rejoin- that was a lie and everyone knew it. No one would be impressed or surprised. Surely by now, they’d figured out their so-called “heroine” was just another name in the ending credits crawl of the past few seasons. At least Rantaro wouldn’t know it was her. She wanted that memory of her fictional self to linger in someone’s mind, at least. 

All of her wanted to reject this. She wanted to run, find Rantaro, and beg him to escape with her. She wanted to take his hand and never look back, running to the light of hope. That’s what the girl she’d played would do, after all. 

But, that girl was fictional, after all, just like the ideals she came to believe in. Real people didn’t have “character arcs”, they just got stepped on by the people with money and power and pulverized until there was no difference between them and the literal mindless drones around them. 

Would it make a difference, if she got Terminated? No, it wouldn’t. Not even a little. She was already bending to their every whim- any backbone she had was all but gone. Hope didn’t exist because no one believed in it, but what harm would it do to struggle? She had nothing to lose, after all. Even if she fell, she’d ruin their lovely plans in the process. Reality, fiction- none of it mattered. She was miserable either way, except for the scant few moments she had with her “classmates”- with Rantaro. 

For the first time in her life, she looked her producer in the eyes. “No.”

“No?” The producer raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not playing your game anymore,” she said. “Terminate me for all I care- it won’t make any difference. I don’t want to keep helping you disgusting people.”

She didn’t know what she expected. To be hit, or reprimanded, or even shot dead on the spot maybe. She didn’t expect her producer to smile. “Oh, Shirogane, why do you think we’re putting you back in?”

“I beg your pardon?” She fought to keep her resolve, but her demand sounded more like a weak plea for an explanation. 

“Once you get hooked on all that Hope and Despair stuff, no amount of tampering can fix that view of the world your script left you with. All that sappy television addled your poor little brain.”

Something cold and sharp stabbed into the back of her neck. 

“But it’s alright- you weren’t cut out for reality anyways. You’ll make a much better fictional character, Tsumugi Shirogane.

Her consciousness slid away, but as it did, she could have sworn she heard a familiar voice calling her name. 

  
  



End file.
